


Cheating Derek: The Gas Station or Derek Gets His Tank Filled

by Always_Bottom_Derek, Benn_Xavier, IcyCryos



Series: Cheating Derek Series [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: At the Start of this Fic, Cheating Derek Hale, Cock Slut Derek Hale, Cockhungry, Come Eating, Dirty Dick, Gross Blowjob, Homophobic Language, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, So Be Careful Where You Open It, There is a Very Naughty Pic, messy blowjob, sex with strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Always_Bottom_Derek/pseuds/Always_Bottom_Derek, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benn_Xavier/pseuds/Benn_Xavier, https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyCryos/pseuds/IcyCryos
Summary: After leaving the Stilinski house one Wednesday after his regular visit, Derek noticed the Camaro's gas gauge said its tank was almost empty. There was probably sufficient fuel for him to make it back to the loft, but rather than take the chance he decided to stop and fill up.But while stopping at the gas station, Derek ends up getting more than just gasoline for his Camaro's tank, when a mumper crosses his path and fuels his passion for cock.





	Cheating Derek: The Gas Station or Derek Gets His Tank Filled

**Author's Note:**

> Please, pay attention to the tags on this fic before reading.
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> \- Benn Xavier

It was past midnight when Derek left the Stilinski house one Wednesday after his regular visit. You see, while Friday night was ‘date night’, Wednesday had been decreed ‘family night’.

This arrangement had been settled on when John finally agreed to allow Derek to date his son. It had been made mandatory that Derek go to the Sheriff’s house once a week. On these ‘family nights’ Stiles made dinner and then the trio, John included, would sit and eat together at the dining room table while they chatted about their week and everyday Beacon Hills matters.

After dinner, Stiles did the dishes. Derek always offered to help but was more often than not shooed off, since Stiles wanted his two favorite guys to have some good “bonding time.” So Derek and Sheriff would move to the living room to watch something sporty; baseball being their game of choice when in season.

But whatever event was playing, John and Derek passed the game laughing at each others’ lame jokes or cursing their team’s failures. Stiles joined them eventually, sitting next to Derek while his dad’s and his boyfriend’s eyes were glued to the TV. He wasn’t a big sports fan himself, but seeing both of his beloved men getting along so well and enjoying each other’s company made him happy.

If only he’d known that  Derek and John shared much more than just a love of sports. They also shared a passion for an entirely different form of athletics. A ‘one on one’ sporting event, as it were, that they played with each other.

But not on Wednesdays.

Derek and John had both agreed, it wouldn’t do to fool around at all on family night. For two reasons.

First:  Sports that didn’t include fucking, and baseball, in particular, were sacred to Derek. Watching his favorite team play and score, racking up points and making great plays as they moved closer to a title game was a thrill for him. And he detested being distracted when a game was going on, even by his favorite alpha stud.

Second:  As greedy as Derek was and as horny as the Sheriff might be, they fucked enough at the station and sometimes even after Derek’s Friday dates with Stiles that Wednesday nights they put their carnal urges on hold in order to keep Stiles’ naivety intact.

Which was important to both of them, obviously.

This particular Wednesday, after lingering long past his usual hour, Derek said goodbye to both Stilinski men and hopped into his Camaro. As he started the engine he noticed the gas gauge said its tank was almost empty. There was probably sufficient fuel for him to make it back to the loft, but rather than take the chance he decided to stop and fill up.

As with so many Beacon Hills nights, the city was fairly quiet. There was no one on the streets Derek drove through and when he pulled into the gas station, the lot was pretty much empty.

He got out of the car and after a little wrangling got the gas pumping. It was the usual warm California night and he was glad he’d chosen to wear just a light-weight gray Henley and his tight jeans, leaving his leather jacket at home.

Once the meter clicked off, Derek, hung up the nozzle. A noise on the opposite side of the Camaro had his head shooting up. A figure in the shadows at the edge of the station’s lot caught his attention. Using his werewolf vision, he warily watched the broad silhouette approach in unsteady wobbling steps, almost like a zombie from one Stiles’ favorite TV shows.

And well, given Derek Hale’s luck, and the fact we are talking about Beacon Hills, the city where everything is possible, it could have very well been a zombie-like creature out from hell or wherever. But Derek’s ever-keen nose caught no smell of rotten flesh, only dirt and sweat. And his ears registered the bump, bump. bump of a heartbeat growing louder as the figure got closer.

So, yeah… definitely not a zombie.

It was very human.

And very male.

Finally, the stranger wandered into the dim white lights of the lot and Derek was able to get a really good look at him. The man was shirtless and bald, sporting a flawed goatee. His only clothes were a loose pair of shabby camouflage shorts that hung low on his waist and his feet sported a pair of mismatched flip-flops.

Clearly, the guy was a mumper: a derelict, a bum.

“Hey man, do you have any beer in your car?”

Before the guy even had the chance to utter these hoarse-sounding words, Derek had already caught the alcohol scent wafting off him. The smell was so heavy it assaulted his hypersensitive nose and made him feel almost tipsy just by proximity. But there was something else mixed up in the man’s scent too Derek wasn’t able to identify right away.

It was almost medicinal, like when someone was on medication. Although it was more understated than what would be usual.

Shaking his head, Derek dismissed the drunk. “Sorry, I don’t.”

The mumper remained standing where he was, his body slightly swaying as he continued to stare at Derek with his red, bloodshot eyes.

“C’mon, you must have something to get crazy with on ya…” he insisted.

Derek quirked an eyebrow when he registered the bum’s meaning: so this man wasn’t just drunk, he was a druggie as well. That explained the “medicinal” smell.

“I really don’t. I was just filling up” Derek waved his hand over Camaro as if to illustrate. He turned his back to the man as he made to open his car door.

With a surprising burst of speed, the mumper managed to move around the car and up behind him. Here, he reached out a hand and placed it on Derek’s hip, right above his waistband. Derek shifted out of his grasp and opened the driver’s door wide, using it as a barricade. He frowned and stared at the drunk.

“I told you, I don’t have anything.” He readied to slide into his car.

“But you have money. I know you do,” the man mumbled.

Eyes scanning up and down the bum’s body, Derek noticed he clearly wasn’t wearing underwear: the shape of his flaccid dick outlined by the thin fabric of his shorts. He could also tell the guy was big and, after having restrained himself all those hours at the Stilinskis’, seeing the size of the mumper’s dick was enough to trigger his cockslut instincts.

Derek’s mouth started watering as he watched the man standing there, swaying side to side in front of him, the guy’s loose cock bobbing along with his body’s motion. Seeing this, an idea sparked in his mind. One that could be a win-win for both him and this drunken bum.

Gulping down the pooling saliva in his mouth, Derek answered,“yeah, I have money. But I won’t just give it to you. You’re gonna have to give me something in return.”

He slipped into the driver seat and fumbled for his cleaning kit in the glove box to make sure he had enough mouthwash. There was half a bottle yet.

_Perfect._

Meanwhile, the bum stood outside his car, gazing back at him back with an expression that was both vacant and expectant at the same time. It was clear the guy was weighing what Derek might want from him for his 100 bucks and was trying to make a decision.

Derek peered up at the mumper through the half-open window of his car door and decided to make it easier on him.

“So, here’s the thing,” He offered. “If you let me suck your cock, I’ll give you hundred bucks.

“That’s a pretty good trade, don’t you think? We have deal?”

He stuck his right hand out over the open door’s edge, waiting for a handshake like he was closing a business deal.

The bum had clearly been expecting Derek’s demands to be more the other way around.

“You  wanna suck  me ?”

“Yeah.”

“Your  mouth on  my  cock?”

“Yep.”

The shock of this seemed to rouse the mumper a bit from his stupor. Still, he stared for some seconds before taking Derek’s proffered hand. When his cool, dirty, rough skin brushed against Derek’s warm, smooth palm, the werewolf smiled.

The man moved around the door, their hands still clasped. “Yes.. deal,” he mumbled drunkenly, squeezing Derek’s hand now like he was afraid he might suddenly evaporate on him.

With his right hand occupied by their extended shake, Derek’s left hand moved up to grope the drunk’s bulging junk through his shorts. Just then, however, a couple curfew breaking teenagers on bikes whirred across the gas station lot, passing by them. Derek let go of the bum’s cock to avoid being busted.

“Look, let me move my car over there.” he pointed to a darkened corner of the lot.

The bum reluctantly nodded and staggered quickly after the Camaro once it was relocated.

When the lot was quiet again, Derek opened his car door and swung his legs out, though his ass stayed seated.  The bum reached down and grabbed his forearm, moving his hand back to his dick. Derek promptly grabbed it, grinning up at the drunk’s goateed face.

“Eager aren’t you?”

“C’mon faggot, I just want my hundred bucks”

Derek smirked ignoring the slur or maybe a little turned on by it. His hand massaged the mumper’s flaccid dick over his dirty shorts. “You’ll get it once I’m finished. Promise.”

The man’s meat was soft to the touch, heavy, and dense, and Derek’s mouth started watering again, imagining the taste of that unwashed cock.

“Nice, very nice,” he said, using his skilled hands to pump the man full. Looking up at him from under his thick eyelashes he studied the bum’s face. This vagabond was nowhere near close to being called a beauty; countless street skirmishes had left his facial features misaligned. He had some front teeth missing too.

But it was not the guy’s face Derek was interested in and feeling the size of the filling cock in his hand, Derek couldn’t wait anymore to see what he was really after.

The mumper leaned back in the “V” made by the opened car door. One arm on the edge of the window and another one on the roof, his body created a shield blocking anyone’s external vision of the driver’s seat.

Where he sat, Derek pulled the shabby shorts down freeing the man’s heavy girth and ushering it into the warm night air.

At half-mast the bum’s dick was already filling his palm. As Derek’s pumping rhythm pulled the bum to full hardness, he realized the guy was more of a ‘shower’ than a ‘grower. But even if the drunk wasn’t the monster he’d hoped for, there was definitely enough meat there to satisfy his slutty hunger.

“Beautiful dick, Man. Can’t wait to taste it.”

Derek said this more to himself than the derelict. Eyes fixed on the growing flesh in his fist, his thumb teased its pearling tip, catching a drop of the bum’s precome before it fell to the ground. Derek dipped his head, not to take hold of the leaking dick in his hand, but to suckle this bit of precome from his thumb.

The second it hit his tongue, Derek hummed in delight at the sharp, gritty flavor. Instantly he needed to taste more.

“C’me here,” He ordered, pulling the mumper’s waist closer to him.

This new position not only blocked Derek’s vision outside but made it even more impossible for any voyeur to spot him looking in. Not that this was really a concern since Derek got a thrill from being perverted in public places. Besides, anyone would recognize the black Camaro immediately and know who owned it, since it was the only one of its kind in Beacon Hills.

Chin supported on his forearms laid on the car roof now, the bum relaxed, letting Derek go to town. The werewolf engulfed his cock and the pungent sour taste exploded on Derek’s tongue. Clearly, this guy didn’t wash often. The flavor of piss was strong amidst the grime but this didn’t bother Derek one bit.

He started to eagerly nurse and to his delight, the bum’s dick thickened even more. The beastly part of him relished the funk of the man’s crotch and the dirty acrid flavor of his prick. His slut self rejoiced in the sense of fullness in his mouth as the mumper’s cock pulsed and enlarged further.

“Geez…”

Above him, the drunk hiccupped and chuckled at his sudden good fortune. And at Derek’s heavenly oral skills. Derek smiled and hummed equally pleased, his stubbled cheeks hollowing as his tongue swirled around the man’s girth.

Skilled as only a true whore-wolf like Derek could be, soon he had the mumper’s full, hard cock slotted in his throat. His head bobbed back and forth as he made obscene slurping sounds.  

Savoring the taste of pre-cum from the derelict’s heavily leaking dick, he wished he could look up and see the man’s expression. It was too bad the guy’s face was blocked by the Camaro’s roof since Derek always loved to see a fuckbuddy’s face when he was cocksucking them.

“Wow… Your mouth is so silky and warm… So good… Fuck…”

Even though he couldn’t see his trick’s expression, the bum made up for this with a constant babble of mumbles and moans at how pleasurable this blow job was. Derek hummed along in agreement as saliva spilled out the corners of his mouth, dripped down his bottom lip, and hung in strands from his bearded chin.

After a bit, Derek popped loudly off the bum’s cock so he could lick along the spit-coated length. He was happy as a kid with a lollipop at the dick’s heaviness, its fat head like a mushroom under the foreskin. Hand pumping the shaft and his lips closing just over the crown, Derek applied pressure, sucking hard at the leaking slit just like a straw.

The man groaned and trembled, spilling more pre-cum into the slutty mouth that held him, his glands clearing the way for his rising orgasm.

Derek gulped down the sticky fluid, bitter and acidic. He ran the tip of his tongue under the foreskin and drug it around the circumference of the bum’s cockhead. There was plenty of heady buildup here, and the greasy cock-dirt’s tart flavor triggered his tastebuds. His salivary glands spilled even more spit at the taste.

It was the perfect late night, pungent dick-cheese dessert plate to follow Stiles’ carefully cooked dinner.

Shiny and slimy with spit, the bum’s cock slid easily in and out of Derek’s mouth. For one moment the slut-wolf thought about how would feel to have this hard cock inside of him and within his tight jeans, his puckered hole clenched. But taking into account the mumper’s actual drunken state he wasn’t sure this was a good idea or if the bum could even deliver a good fuck, so he satisfied himself with just sucking.

Derek’s face was as spit-slicked as the cock between his lips. His stubbled cheeks were tacky and long strings of saliva swayed back and forth at his chin as Derek bobbed his head. Then he took the bum’s cock all the way in. His nose buried in sweaty mumper pubes, his throat clenched while his lips smacked around the cock’s base.

It was gloriously filthy.

“Oh shit..” the bum groaned, body trembling. Derek knew what was coming and kept nursing the hard dick. Picking up the pace, his hand grabbed the base of the mumper’s cock as his mouth pulled off it a bit. Pumping the bit of length not in his mouth in a milking motion, Derek hummed and moaned anticipating the bum’s impending orgasm.

The mumper couldn’t hold back anymore and exploded in Derek’s mouth. Sluttishly Derek eagerly closed his lips tight around the bum’s cockhead to avoid missing a single drop of cum. Derek whimpered in delight at the pungent taste of alcoholic semen sparked on his tongue as rope after rope of thick, tacky fluid filled his mouth.

As soon as his cock was done spewing the bum tried to back off. But Derek’s held him in place, tightening his grip on his hips and refusing to let go. He nursed the dick clean till it started to soften and slipped from his abused lips.

Finally free, the man pulled his shorts up, the action breaking the spit strings connecting his cock to Derek’s bottom lip. Derek whined at loss, licking his lips, already missing the bum’s acidic taste.

The mumper stuck out his hand, his wide palm on display. Derek stared at it some seconds before rousing from his dick stupor.

“Oh, right.”

He fished out, his wallet, pulling out the promised hundred bucks and placing this in the mumper’s hand. The bum’s fingers immediately closed on the bills, tight, as though worried Derek would change his mind and try to grab them back. Cash clutched in hand, the mumper turned and tottered away without another word.

Derek watched him disappear into the darkness before shutting the driver’s door closed. He looked into the rearview mirror, catching a view of his debauched face. The sight made him chuckle.

“Oh god, I’m a mess…” he caught a dangling saliva string on his chin with a couple fingers, as well the sticky droplets crusting at the corner of his mouth. He pushed these in all inside his fouled mouth.

His tongue sucked his fingers and his smacking lips collected the rest. He thought about pulling the mouthwash out from his slut kit, but then decided “what the fuck.” Since he was going home alone anyways he might as well savor the flavor as long as he could.

He growled low in pleasure as he took his sloppy fingers and rubbed them all over his stubble, marking himself with bum scent and making his scruff glossy in the dim light of the pumps that shone through his windshield.

Then he started the Camaro and headed to the loft. A smile wide on his face and the bum’s spunk sitting heavy in his belly, he knew he’d sleep easier now having made sure to top-off both his tanks before going home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this dirty little story filled you up too...
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> \- Always_Bottom_Derek


End file.
